


untitled

by wingspike



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:46:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingspike/pseuds/wingspike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>put the flowers in your hair / wrap your tendrils round my chest / i am your boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled

**Author's Note:**

> i love fire emblem? where is my nishiki/flannel content?  
> i haven't written in a really long time (do i preface every fic like this? it's really been ages).
> 
> pre localization names because i'm sorry localization names are ugly and too similar for comfort.
> 
> i'm not sure what this is but enjoy maybe!

_we sip the wind through lips of lust / and out it comes, warm wisps of love_  
_i smile because i want to / i smile because you want to_

His fingers were deft where they fell against his buttons, quick yet torturously slow at the same time and it made his skin crawl, made him want to take control and force this further (or maybe force wasn’t the right word to be used considering they both wanted this equally, both wanted to be wrapped in the scent of the other as was obvious from the way Nishiki’s tail swished side to side throughout all of his movements). Needless to say, he was smooth, and while Flannel wanted the youko on his back underneath him while settled perfectly between his legs, he was fine for now – or as fine as he could be. 

Those hands were a blessing and a curse all the same – hands he couldn’t tear his sight from besides the occasional glance up to the other’s face while almost overwhelmed with each touch, the sensation too much and too little. There was no happy medium while he watched them disappear underneath his vest and top, felt them skim against his sides while his muscles retracted in anticipation for more underneath such a soft touch - almost too cool against his warm skin without the fingerless gloves that were normally present on those sinful hands.

Still – yet still he couldn’t find it in himself to complain, as he knew that no one else was indulged in this, that no one else would be privy to attention from the male hovering above him, to the feel of soft hands and even softer lips that pressed against his insistently. It was as if asking permission to continue yet letting the reigns fall to Flannel – something he gladly took control of as a gloved hand slid across his jaw slow before running into shorter hair, fingers curling experimentally to only earn him access to that sweet and tempting mouth.

This was something of Nishiki he could never resist – or maybe he didn’t want to resist it in the first place. It was something he didn’t want to admit to himself or anyone, for that matter, yet he was always absolutely and utterly intoxicated each and every time their lips met. He would never get sick of kissing Nishiki, could never get sick of how perfectly their mouths aligned or the taste that always edged on being like chocolate, made him _melt_ like the chocolate in those human desserts they often shared over the sound of a crackling campfire and their comrades’ laughter, in the sound of Nishiki’s inhale that came sharp through his nose or the whimper that followed as his brows knit when Flannel’s teeth sunk _just right_ into his bottom lip.

It was his breathing that egged him on, caused Flannel to sit up and shrug off his own clothing and pick off his gloves while hands were busy behind his ears, slipping through his tangled hair like nothing, pulling a soft noise from his lips because if he was weak anywhere, he was weak to being pet as much as he would deny it. He’d always deny it though the other knew what he really wanted, really knew what he meant when he’d say the opposite and wouldn’t hesitate in fitting their mouths together or interlacing their fingers or whispering every sweet nothing that brought colour to his cheeks even when he didn’t need to hear it.

Which is where they were now as Nishiki pulled back yet didn’t create new distance between them, leaning near his ear with a desperate pant and a soft _please_ paired with it, fingers flexing and nails biting against his scalp where they were still tangled in thick locks.

He didn’t need more than that, not another word before he slid a hand smooth and easy underneath the folds of fabric, other untying his belt without another word before removing them all, allowing them to join the pile of fabric already growing on the ground.

And maybe he was more patient than normal, more gentle than normal but he couldn’t help himself. It hadn’t been a hard day – if anything it was more than easy, almost like a rare break in the middle of war that had graced them with the time and ability to relax within their quarters. And maybe with a good day came the patience that he normally didn’t have, even if he wasn’t fully sure about how they got to the place that they currently were after spending time in the sunshine playing or spread out on a blanket, eating berries freshly picked by one of the girls around camp earlier that day, fingers stained shades of purple and lips pulled upwards in smiles while they joked. Truly, he could never lie about enjoying the youko’s presence.

Not that he was entirely sure when he became so attracted to him, either. Maybe it came with what he was – a bewitching fox that only happened to pull him in, though he knew that wasn’t the truth, knew that wasn’t the reason he was pulling him flush against his chest with an arm wrapped tight around his waist as his other hand skimmed up his thigh and squeezed, face buried into the sun-warmed skin of his neck with a deep inhale.

“Gods, you’re so _perfect_ ,” is all the garou could bring himself to murmur, soaking in that smell of sunshine and earth mixed with something sweet, like the sweet chocolate taste that he couldn’t resist. His lips parted, fangs sinking straight into skin near an already fading mark. Moments like these were where he was glad for the scarf the kitsune wore regularly, leaving him to mark as he pleased, to claim the territory and temple that was Nishiki’s body and show that he belonged to no one else.

His and his alone.

But somewhere he knew that he didn’t have to worry about that, even with the inkling of jealousy whenever someone would flirt with him, would intimately pet his ears or his tail in ways that Flannel typically did in private or when it was just the two of them. While knowing it was nothing, it was still _something_ and the marks of his teeth and the bruises that blossomed underneath after laving it sweetly with his tongue before moving to another patch of skin against his clavicle was the satisfaction that pressed him on, kept him proud of his work and kept his mind calm that he was his, _definitely_ his.

Each mark only earned him another hitched breath or a soft moan paired with nails that dug into his shoulders, drug down his arms or his chest in equally possessive marks that he’d find no shame in showing off later though he knew the embarrassment that would come from Nishiki, from the blush spread across his cheeks or that cast off honeyed gaze that was almost apologetic no matter how many times Flannel said he didn’t mind it, that he _loved it_. It was attention – attention his prideful self would eat up, so long as it came from the closest he could call a mate. 

Gentle though – gentle was the word that slipped momentarily when he sucked a particularly dark patch against Nishiki’s chest that elicited a press of hips downward, another bit off breath and a pull to his own hair that had him pulling back, had him switching their positions effortlessly to press Nishiki down into the comfort of their bed. _Our bed_.

He couldn’t help the moment he pulled back further to admire him, to allow his hands to skim down over his stomach while glancing at his handiwork. Flannel couldn’t help the affection that grew in his chest, threatening to strangle him for a mere second before what felt like learning to breathe again at the look on Nishiki’s face - the one of happiness and fondness, of love and acceptance, of pure _want_ for what was coming his way. He only urged him on, snapping Flannel out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the present where hips raised into his touch.

His own smile returned, something that was a mixture of his own love, of his own pride, of his own resolve that this is what he wanted, what he yearned for, what he was so, _so_ lucky to have, no matter how many times he turned it over in his brain that others may have joked to be unused.

Though it would always be used for Nishiki - to observe him and make each glance downward as he edged off his pants, to the hitch of his breath or the way his breathing picked up when he pulled off his smallclothes and gave him a firm stroke from base to tip, palm sliding slow over top before pulling any excess wetness downwards, thumb finding place against the under ridge of his head where he knew it’d drag a sweet whine out – a whine that asked for more.

And more he would give, eager to please and eager to receive the praise and encouragement from the male underneath him. His grip was sure yet varying in its pressure, pushing and yet pulling, just on the edge of enough yet not. Could be revenge for earlier, for those fleeting touches, for the teasing outside and down the hallways until they found themselves kissed senseless against the door before finally making it inside.

He uncorked the vial sitting on the bed where he’d tossed it earlier, thankful it was still there while deep ruby glanced up to meet the other’s gaze, silently asking for that second bout of permission. Flannel received a smile and a nod, which was plenty for him to pour the oil generously over his fingers, warming it before pressing in one, then another, then slowly moving them to stretch the one beneath him open.

The sounds he received spurred him further (which could have been as satisfying as any other praise he could get) noting the way fingers curled into the sheets below, noting the way Nishiki’s breath picked up a notch and the litany of noises slipping through that occasionally bit lip. He crooked his own fingers upwards, searching, _hitting it_ just right which earned him sight of a bowed back, a caught breath, a needy moan before –

“Flannel, _gods_ – please just do it now.”

He was more than happy to comply, to please as he pulled his fingers free yet not missing the whimper. He understood the loss but knew it’d be replaced, to be filled with something even better after he shed his belt and was able to push his pants and smallclothes down, to wrap his still slick fingers around himself in preparation before aligning himself, nudging slow before pressing in in one final thrust. A hand found purchase against the youko’s hip while another found rest by his head, waiting a moment for the other to adjust, to receive that ok before he could lose himself in that insatiable heat.

Lips rolled over his bottom lip for his first thrust, released at his second, another breath and a soft noise from his own mouth after the third. His pace was easy - gentle yet deep and fully granting each and every wish that fell off of Nishiki’s lips. He wanted this to be perfect, didn’t want to break the mood with each timed roll of his hips until he could really feel it, could _really_ feel it from the other. He let his hand be guided to the other’s shaft, took it with skilled and practiced fingers to pump him in time, to skate his palm across his tip, to run a finger across his slit that didn’t allow him to hold back a full body shiver. He leaned down further, caught his lips in a kiss and practically devoured the moan that came from the right angle, _just right_ as he broke, as the tension snapped clean over his hand and Nishiki’s chest. His own heat mounted afterwards, coiling before letting out inside the other.

He took a moment to breathe, to pull back and place measured yet sweet kisses against the corners of his lips, across his jaw, his cheeks, and another back to his lips before allowing that goofy smile to slide to his own features as he eased out of that sweet warmth.

Yet he still felt warm as fingers found way to his hair again, smoothing it back and down. His ears went with it, calm and contentment washing over him as he was guided down into bed for another kiss and another smile paired with a happy sigh that he wasn’t sure had come from him or Nishiki. He allowed the youko to pull him in after kicking free of the rest of his garments, arm around his waist, other sliding through the soft of a tail wrapped around his thigh. Flannel willingly tangled himself up, pressed his face into Nishiki’s hair and inhaled that sickeningly sweet scent that made his stomach churn with butterflies.

He really was a fool through and through.

He exhaled slow, hues slipping shut while intently listening to the “I love you” that fell on his ears before returning it himself.

He could wait to get up after that – just a minute more.


End file.
